Their Cruelty Has No Limits:The 126th Hunger Games SYOT (OPEN)
by Aria Sawyer
Summary: The Head Gamemaker is determined to fill the citizens thirst for blood, betrayal, and an intense arena after the success of the previous games, The fifth Quarter Quell. 24 children are once again used as pawns for the Capitol's cruel form of entertainment. Someone will be victorious, but they won't truly win. I do not own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does. Rated Teen.


**Greeting and Salutations!**

**After reading SYOT stories for awhile, I decided I'd write one. I love to write and enjoy Hunger Games SYOT's, so why not combine them? I'm really excited to get submissions and start writing your tributes journey! The Submission form is at the bottom of this page and on my profile if you would like to submit. I'm not doing first come first serve, but I don't have a close date as of yet. It depends on how many people are interested in submitting. You can submit up to three tributes, but that doesn't mean they'll all be chosen. The more interesting and descriptive the tribute, the more likely they'll get picked! I thank everyone so much in advance for submitting and giving my story a chance. As you know, I do NOT own The Hunger Games, it was created by Suzanne Collins. Enjoy Chapter 1! :) **

Reed Cohen, Winner of the 125th Hunger Games, 19

I may be out of the arena, but the guilt and horror of The Hunger Games has been etched into my soul forever.

As I sit on a beautifully crafted plush cushion in the Victor's Village, I realize that I feel like anything but a winner. No Victor truly wins, unless their minds have been tainted by the Capitol. Only then do they believe this life is glorious.

I never agreed with the Capitol, but during the 125th Hunger Games, which was the fifth Quarter Quell, I realized how evil and heartless they are. Every district had to offer up a pair of siblings.

When Aspen and I were reaped, I promised her she'd come home.

I feel tears prick the corners of my eyes, and my vision becomes blurry. I let out a painful cry and slam my fist into the ottoman in front of me. I abruptly stand up and rush towards the door to my house.

The house that should be Aspen's.

I don't bother grabbing a coat, and aggressively pull my door open then proceed to slam it back shut. I shove my hands into my pockets and dart my eyes to the ground as I walk briskly to the center of The Victor's Village.

Snowflakes fall gracefully on to the ground, adding to the thin layer of white. They're too beautiful to be in a dreadful place like this. My shoes make soft crunching noises in the snow as I make my way to watch my mistake.

When I arrive, I slowly pull open the door, hoping no one would be there. If someone was there, I would have to make up an excuse. No one's allowed to re-watch their own games unless it's to help with mentoring. If anything I can tell them that's what I'm doing. I'm the youngest and most recent victor of District 7, so it's almost guaranteed I'll be chosen to mentor. I'm still not sure how I feel about that, but like everything that has to do with the Capitol; I have no choice.

The room that I step into is dead silent. No one's here.

It smells unpleasant, and I have to dodge my way around cobwebs. People must not come here as often as I thought. I should've known, this place is a graveyard for District 7's past games. Well, the one's where we had victors. We don't celebrate our victories in the way District's 1, 2, and 4 do. Families are grateful for their child being alive, but the District is filled with sorrow at the loss of all the 23 other children. We appreciate our victors surviving, we do not glorify them.

I stroll past a few different desks and drawers, my shoes causing the floorboards to creak loudly. The noise echoes throughout the almost abandoned building. I eventually find what I'm looking for. A large wooden drawer with golden corners sits in front of me.

I swipe the thick layer of dust that has collected over the box away. I rub my pointer finger and thumb together, attempting to wipe away the dust that had stuck to me. I unlatch the lid and shuffle through the tapes inside. I grasp a tape titled **The 125th Hunger Games - Reed Cohen**.

I wonder how this place is so abandoned looking if someone recently put this here. They must've just walked in and dropped it off. I don't blame them for not wanting to stay.

I jog back to my house with the tape in hand. My breath is visible because of the cold temperature, and I can feel my nose starting to burn.

Once I make it back, I quickly put the tape in the large TV the Capitol so graciously gifted me with so that I can watch kids slaughter each other in HD. The Capitol has such wonderful technology, it boggles me they decide to use tapes for the games. They most likely know the outer districts won't be trying to re-visit their games.

I click wildly on the remote, attempting to avoid watching any of the killing that was done in the games. I have seen enough murder for a lifetime.

I pause when I reach the final two.

Aspen and I are staring at each other with broken expressions. I'm holding a knife in my right hand. I see myself tremble as I hold it towards my own chest. I watch myself as I tell Aspen I love her, and to go on. I tell her how I'll always be her big brother, right there by her side. She tells me she loves me too, but before I can save her, she tackles me to the ground. We struggle for awhile, as I beg her to let go. She had to be the one to go home.

She is able to get the knife from my grip, and as soon as I feel the absence of the weapon in my hand, I scramble to get back to my feet. I'm too late.

When I look up, Aspen has a knife plunged into her stomach. I scream the word no at the top of my lungs. I let out a noise full of pain as she starts to fall. I catch her in my arms. I'm sobbing uncontrollably as she glances at me.

She lets out a weak smile, as a tear falls down her cheek.

"Don't let them change you," She whispers. Her body goes limp, and her hazel eyes start to dim. The deafening sound of a cannon rings across the arena.

I sit there with my little sister, the one I swore to protect, dead in my arms. For a very long time the Capitol films me while I'm turning hysterical.

I turn the TV off, the soft click of the button stopping my cries. I will not let the Capitol change me Aspen.

I promise.

**That's the first chapter! There's a lot to learn about District 7's mentor and most recent victor Reed. We will hear more from him throughout the story. I hope you enjoyed this introduction. Again if you would like to submit, the form is below and on my profile. Thank you all so much for reading! Have a great day or night :).**

**-Aria Sawyer**

Name:

Age:

Sex:

District:

Hair color/type:

Eye color:

Skin tone:

Height (Really tall/short, more on the tall/short side, average, etc.):

Other things about their appearance (Optional but encouraged):

Personality:

Family:

Friends/Lovers (Optional):

Reaped or volunteered/if they volunteered why?:

Are they open to Allies?:

Are they open to Romance?:

Backstory:

Are they trying to get sponsors?:

Interview Angle (Optional):

Mentality towards The Games:

Strengths (2-3):

Weaknesses (2-3):

Anything else:


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